Carry On, My Wayward Son, by Martha Thomases – Brilliant Disguise

November 14, 2009 Martha Thomases 8 Comments

My son is coming home for a weekend this week.  He lives in a strange land, far far away, so we don’t get to spend much time together.  It’s true that computers and cell phones make it easier to keep in touch than when I moved away from my parents, but it’s not the same as having him here..

He comes home about twice a year, and I get out to visit him about the same.  When he’s here, we eat too much.  We take walks through some of our old haunts.  We go to silly movies to laugh and dissect scripts.

We go to the comic book store and then have lunch, reading comics.  We discuss important literary and cultural issues, such as why there’s a character in this comic who is a robot with enormous breasts.  Why do robots have gender?  Do vacuum cleaners have gender?  Do robots lactate?  Are they there for storage?

I love it when my boy comes home.

People of my generation – the Baby Boom – are notorious for our navel-gazing.  When we were teenagers, we insisted that adolescence was the most important experience ever.  Our music was all that mattered.  Our movies were the most important.  When we got older, we re-defined marriage.  I don’t want to think about the pretentiousness we’ll spew about funerals.

But our obsession with being parents is different, at least for some of us.  Being someone’s mother is a profound experience, one that is intensified by its dailiness, and its quotidian pleasures.  Because I was lucky enough to have effective birth control, my son was planned.  We wanted him desperately.  We were ready to embrace the sacrifices that come with opening our lives to new humans.  Our son knows we value his existence every single day.

There have been news stories about the increase in crimes, committed by and committed against children, in Chicago in the last year.  It’s heartbreaking.  Kids who don’t think they have any value have nothing to lose.

Not all children are lucky enough to be born to parents who want them, or who can afford to make the financial sacrifices required to give kids the attention they deserve.  Some kids are accidents, and their parents aren’t ready for them.  Some kids have severe emotional problems, and their parents aren’t equipped to cope with them.  Some parents have emotional problems.  Some have to work two or three jobs just to pay for rent and groceries, and have no energy at the end of the day.

When we talk about situations like these, we often blame the parents.  That’s not what I mean to do.  It’s impossible to know what it’s like to be a parent until you are one, and then it’s too late to change your mind.  Some perfectly nice people, who try their best, are inadequate parents.  In fact, even the best parents are inadequate some of the time.

Not only that, but our insistence on an ideal nuclear family, with a mother and a father, is impossible for some and inadequate for many.  My husband and I were devoted, but our friends were there for us.  My son could visit Legs McNeil, who kept snakes as a hobby, for a nature lesson.  He could crawl the expansive floor of an art gallery owned by another friend.  His Saturday night baby-sitters provided fresh ears to listen, and fresh perspectives from ours.  We weren’t the only people who adored him.

When Hillary Clinton quoted the African proverb, “It takes a village to raise a child,” the right made fun of her.  That’s unfortunate.  Children benefit from having more adults who adore them.  Communities benefit from having children in them.

It’s certainly more efficient to take care of children when they’re young than to wait until problems present when they’re old enough to fire weapons, or land a punch.

This is not a problem that can be solved by throwing money at it.  Money helps.  Money is vital.  Unfortunately, so is effort.  We all need to find a way to help all the children in our community, not just those we’ve spawned..

You might get to play games and read comics. Don’t tell anyone, but it’s really fun.

Media Goddess Martha Thomases retains fond memories of the Incredible String Band.